


Dreams to Reality

by cadkitten



Category: Girugamesh (band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-24
Updated: 2008-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satoshi's having dreams that he can't seem to stop. In the end, the only man he thought he had to hide everything from draws his secret out of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams to Reality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ttlittlep](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ttlittlep).



> For ttlittlep, who requested this pairing off of jrock_ffrequest. Prompts: Masturbation and Romance.  
> I'm not at all happy with this. I feel like something's missing from it, like it's not up to par. At least one of my betas agrees with me. But I re-read it four times and can't seem to improve it very much. I don't know, maybe the plot isn't great or something. I guess it just feels... mundane. I suppose the bad part of that is that I was kind of going for it to feel the way Satoshi's feeling and really 'mundane' is about as good a description as any for that. He's just kinda lost, so the story feels a bit lost, like it's lacking something, just like him. But I'm afraid that feeling is going to make the entire thing a huge hunk of junk. I'm really sorry, ttlittlep. *scrubs at brain* Maybe I'll try again in a while for you.  
> Song: "BORN ～white stream mix～" by D'espairs Ray

Dreams... what are dreams? Figments of our twisted imaginations or something deeper than that? If only I knew the answer to that, then maybe I could find the truth I've been hiding from myself for all these years.

I sit in my bed, my body drenched with cold sweat and my heart beating a million miles an hour. A shiver wracks my frame and I can feel the tears burning at the back of my eyes. I won't cry over a stupid dream. I'm a man, not some sissy-ass girl.

All the same, the tears push past my will and fall freely down my cheeks. I swipe them away with a shaking hand and manage to bite back the sobs that come with them.

I don't ask for these dreams. I wish they'd go away. I really do. But some part of me knows they'll always be in my mind and I won't ever be able to let go.

Three months - that's how long these dreams have been going on. It feels like three years. I feel old and broken inside every time I wake up.

I turn and stare at the alarm clock at my bedside. It reads the same time it always does when I wake up like this: 5:12 am. I reach out and flip off the alarm so it doesn't go off at six.

I'm not sure how much longer I can take this. My thoughts always feel like they're a total mess after these dreams - like reality is blending in with fiction.

I get out of bed and quickly strip, padding into the bathroom. I turn the shower on, running it hotter than usual and waiting for it to heat up as I brush my teeth and shave my face. Once I'm done with that, I step into the shower and set about scrubbing my body.

I close my eyes to keep the suds from my shampoo out of my eyes as I wash the rest of my body with the almond soap my mother sent me for my birthday. Leaning back into the spray of the water, I rinse both my hair and my body, ensuring I'm completely clean.

Call me a freak, but if I don't wash twice a day, I think I'm disgusting. I wash before bed and after I get up.

Without even thinking about it, I reach down and wrap my hand around my half-hard length and begin to stroke myself into full arousal. I don't think of anything in particular, I just know I need to get off or I'll end up aroused almost immediately after starting practice today. I learned that lesson months ago - the hard way.

I guess it's difficult for me to accept the truth for what it is. I now all too well the reason for my arousal when I'm there, yet I deny it repeatedly. I know _he_ is the cause for everything - even my dreams. But part of me just can't accept what I know that one day I'll be forced into accepting.

I let my hands work their magic on my body. I know myself well... maybe too well. After all, my own touch is all I've known since I turned seventeen. That was the last time a girlfriend allowed me to touch her in even a remotely intimate manner. Sounds like bullshit? Sadly, it's not. I wish it were. Maybe they all knew the truth before me.

I let out a soft moan as I move my hand faster over my rigid length, intent upon getting this over with as fast as possible so I can get on with my day. I lean forward and press the palm of my free hand against the wall to steady myself. I'm starting to feel a little light-headed. I always do before I cum - mainly because I refuse to breathe when I'm getting close. It just ramps up the feeling so much.

My hips jerk and I gasp as I spill myself over the back of the tub. I draw the last little beads of cum from my cock before I let go and lean down to shakily rinse my shame from the porcelain. Once it's clean, I wash my hands and turn off the water.

I'm panting for breath as I get out of the shower and dry off. I get a glimpse of myself in the steam-covered mirror and I can clearly see the flush of arousal still clinging to my skin. A different sort of blush fills my cheeks and I look away, ashamed.

I comb my hair into place and then make my way back to my bedroom and grab some clean clothes - just a t-shirt and jeans, nothing special. I head into the kitchen and quickly make some instant coffee and toast. I know it's not the best breakfast, or the most usual, but it's about all I need in the morning.

As I enter the hallway, coffee in my travel mug and toast in my mouth, my phone begins to vibrate on the table. I set my coffee down and pick up the phone, glancing at the text message.

_Come by and pick me up on the way to practice, please!_

It's from Ryo. I sigh as I text back that I will and then shove the phone in my pocket with my wallet. I push my shoes on my feet and pick up my keys, heading out of my apartment and locking the door behind me. He does this sometimes... just out of nowhere wants me to come by and walk with him to practice. I guess he thinks it's good for our friendship or something. If he knew I keep thinking other things, maybe he wouldn't ever ask me to do this. He'd probably be so horrified he'd stop talking to me all together.

Once I round the corner to his apartment complex, I can already see him waiting, leaning against the side of the building. He looks like he always does - beautiful. I groan inwardly. Why does he have to make pretending to be who I'm not so fucking hard?

He notices me and pushes away from the wall to come join me. We head to the crosswalk and wait for the light to change in silence. He slings an arm around me and when I glance over at him, startled, he just grins. The light changes and his touch is almost instantly gone. Inwardly, I want to cry that he's not touching me anymore. But outwardly, I'm thankful that he let go.

He talks on and on about some band I've never heard of that he saw live last night. I listen intently to him, but I don't respond, having nothing useful to say in return. He pulls out his cell phone and flips through stuff, finally handing it over to me. "Don't you think the vocalist is hot?"

I glance down at the screen and almost fall face-first onto the ground as I trip over my own feet. The vocalist is a man, about the same build as me, with shockingly blonde hair sticking out all over the place, and best... he has his pants open and his hand down them, obviously groping himself.

My cheeks burn heatedly and I shove the phone back at him. What, is he trying to get me to admit what I've not even admitted to myself yet? How dare he-

My thoughts are cut off when he audibly sighs and flips his phone closed. "Sorry. I just... I got carried away, I guess. I didn't think it'd creep you out that I'm bi, but-"

I stop listening. Did he just say he's bi? What the hell have I been missing? He's the straightest guy I know! I stop dead and round on him, my eyes burning into him. "Excuse me?"

He meets my eyes and then looks ashamed before dropping his head. He shifts around uncomfortably. "Can we just forget I said that? Any of it. Please?"

I don't know why, but something in his reaction tells me I've completely misjudged him. Every dream I've had, every time he screams at me for admitting things in my nightmares - it's all been a complete and total misjudgment.

I don't care that there are hundreds of people streaming past us. I don't even care that most of them are bumping into me. They mean nothing. He means everything.

I step forward and his head snaps up, panic in his eyes. Before I realize what I'm doing, I reach out and pull him to me, my lips crashing down on his. I can feel him stiffen and then relax a little. He's still tense, but not trying to pull away. I'm not sure what to make of it. He doesn't kiss me back, but at the same time, he's not pushing me away.

I pull back just a little and meet his eyes. " Ryo, I-"

He must see something in my eyes - some truth that my kiss could not convey - because he grabs my hand and pivots, yanking me down a side street and plastering me to the wall of an old cafe. I drop my coffee cup, surprise making my fingers lose their grip. It rolls a few feet away and stops.

His fingers thread through my hair and he smiles down at me. "Finally, you admit it. Say it, Sato... tell me the truth."

I stare up at him and then close my eyes, trying desperately to gather my thoughts. My voice sounds choked when I do manage to speak. "I... I've always thought I was straight. But then I started having these dreams about you - first it was just kissing you and random things. But then it started to be about sex and deeper feelings for you. And then, lately, it's been about me telling you - like I am now - and you getting really pissed off at me, leaving the band, hurting me, and then, this last time, I killed myself in my dream." I open my eyes and hesitantly peer up at him.

He looks sad, maybe a little shocked as well. His thumb lightly brushes over my cheek and he sighs softly as his body melds into mine. "I'd never hurt you." He lightly brushes his fingers over my side, his other hand still threaded into my hair. "I can't hurt you when I'm hopelessly lost in you."

I swallow hard. It's my turn to be shocked again. He likes me? How long? Why? But questions can wait. I wrap my arms around him and lean in, kissing him deeply. This time he responds, his lips moving frantically over mine. All I can think is that we're eating each other alive, right here in front of the entire world.

I can feel myself becoming aroused and I know I need to pull away. Gently, I push him back a little and turn my head.

His breath ghosts over my cheek and then he lightly nips my ear. "We'd better get to practice. But first... does this mean we're-"

"Together." I whisper the word in his ear, a light smile touching my face. "I certainly hope so."

"Then yes." He smiles as he pulls away, gripping my hand and pulling me back into the flow of people all heading toward their jobs.

**The End**  



End file.
